


Never More Alone

by SunnySidesofBlue



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnySidesofBlue/pseuds/SunnySidesofBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The twins’ guardian leaves them in the middle of an air raid and all hope seems lost. Until a certain young medic enters the stage…</p>
<p>First meeting fic, Ratchet/sparkling!Lambotwins</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never More Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my first stories, originally posted in the twins-x-ratch LJ community

“He left us. He left us!”  
  
The two sparklings stared incredulously down the road where the dust stirred up by their rapidly disappearing custodian already began to settle.

Had he just assumed that they would follow, forgetting that the two mechlings were far too young to yet have mastered transformation? Or was he too interested in saving his own hide to bother about the wards that had been placed in his care?  
  
Probably the latter. No-one had ever really cared about them, freaks that they were. Some had even gone as far as to suggest they had no place in this world, that they were abominations since - as spark twins - none of them had a complete spark on his own and therefore wasn’t  fully functional being. And no-one bothered to keep quiet about their opinions, either. On the contrary, it had frequently been discussed openly, in front of them, as if the young mechs were too dim-witted to understand what was said.  
  
But they had understood, every word and gesture that told them clearly they weren’t wanted. They had learned early on never to expect love, or kindness, just to be tolerated, at best. But still, they had never been totally abandoned.  
  
Until now.  
  
Another wave of jets swept over the area and once again the ground shook as bombs fell and buildings collapsed. One of the mechlings suddenly seemed to realise that they were standing in the middle of the road, two brightly coloured dots of red and yellow against the grey background. Perfect targets.  
  
“Please, Sunny, we have to go!” the red sparkling cried, tugging at his brother’s arm. “Backtrack is gone and we have to get off the street before someone shoots us!”  
  
His brother didn’t seem to hear him and just kept staring along the road.  
  
“He left us… He abandoned us…”  
  
“Sunny, _please!_  
  
Another explosion, much closer than the previous one, seemed to pull the yellow mechling out of his daze. Grabbing his brother’s hand he spun around and ran towards the place they had called home for the last deca-cycles.  
  
They never reached it. A strafe of laser fire cut their path, sending debris and molten metal splattering. The shock wave was enough to throw the two off their pedes.  
  
Sunny, or Sunstreaker as his full designation was, spat out a series of curses that did not fit well with his age before he rolled over and pushed himself off the ground.  
  
His cursing stopped mid-sentence as he spotted his brother lying on his back, quite still, with a large piece of metal sticking out of his chest.  
  
“Sides?” he asked, his voice little more than a horrified whisper. He fell to his knees and began to shake his brother’s frame. “Sideswipe, wake up!”  
  
The red mechling didn’t move.  
  
Sunstreaker felt a tidal wave of panic crashing in over him. He tried to reach his twin through their spark bond but felt nothing but vague impressions of confusion and pain.  
  
“SIDESWIPE, WAKE UP!” he cried, fighting back tears while looking desperately around him for someone who could help him. Nothing.  
  
“Please, someone, help! HELP!”  
  
Suddenly there was the sound of engines approaching and as Sunstreaker looked up he saw two fliers, one jet and one shuttle, transform and descend towards him. He was fairly certain that they were not the ones who had been bombing the area and for a few short moments he actually hoped they might be willing to help him. Before he had any chance to plead, though, the bigger of the two mechs turned to his companion with a disgusted expression on his face.  
  
“Oh, come _on_ , Blitzwing, did you get me all the way down here for two little _glitches_? What use could we possibly have of them, one half dead and the other practically shivering with fear? This isn’t some fragging do-gooder mission we’re on; you were supposed to scan for Autobots, not scraplets!”  
  
The jet mech made a face.  
  
“I’m sorry, Astrotrain, I guess my scanners need recalibrating.”  
  
With that they both turned to leave and Sunstreaker finally managed to get his vocaliser under control.  
  
“Please!” he called after them, “please, sirs, help me! My brother is hurt!”  
  
None of the two fliers gave even the slightest indication that they had heard the mechling’s plea; they transformed and left. The yellow twin looked after them, tears flooding his optics and his spark aching horribly with the feeling of absolute helplessness. All strength seemed to leave him and he fell on top of his brother’s motionless frame, sobbing violently.  
  
“Please come back, Sideswipe, don’t leave me alone! Please, wake up… please…”  
  
***  
  
The young medic tried without much success to repress a dejected ex-vent as he scanned yet another pile of rubble for signs of life. It had been two days since the attack that had levelled the city with the ground, and so far they had only found 14 survivors, three of which had since died from their injuries.  
  
He passed his hands over his optics and slowly rubbed the lower tip of his grey chevron to ease the building ache in his processor. For every greyed, mutilated frame they found, he felt like a part of him died. A life, a future, an endless line of possibilities, all snuffed out because of this senseless, accursed civil war.  
  
All of a sudden his scanner beeped. Although it was exactly what he had hoped for all day the sound was so unexpected that the medic nearly dropped the scanner. Checking the area once more he found the signal again and locked onto it. He began moving more swiftly as the signal got stronger. There was definitely someone there, someone who was alive even after two days!  
  
He turned sharply around the corner of a still standing wall and stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
In a little cavity formed by two concrete slabs on the ground before him, tightly clinged together, were two sparklings! They were both currently offline, no doubt from lack of fuel, but they were alive! He made a quick scan of the two, filled with conflicting feelings. He was overjoyed to find survivors, delighted to find sparklings but grieved that they had probably lost their family, horrified to think they had spent all this time here alone, fascinated by the fact that they yielded identical signatures, meaning they were actually something as exceedingly rare as spark twins.  
  
Pushing all those feelings aside he concentrated on his examination. The yellow one was drained of energy but physically unharmed. The red one, on the other hand, had not been so lucky. A large piece of sharp metal had cut deep into his chest, severing multiple energon lines, ripping one of his coolant tanks open and probably touched the spark chamber as well. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was still alive. It was probably thanks to the little yellow mechling, who knowingly or not was providing a faint but steady stream of his own energy to keep his twin sustained. But he didn’t have much left to give and would soon fade away completely unless something was done fast.  
  
“Chief, I need aerial medical transport at once,” the young medic called over his comm. “We have an emergency.”  
  
***  
  
Sunstreaker woke up with a start, terrified to realise that his brother was no longer in his arms. He had obviously fallen into recharge at some point, and while he was out someone had taken Sideswipe away from him!  
  
“No!” he cried, onlining his optics and sitting up so fast he almost fell off the berth.  
  
Wait a minute...  
  
Berth?  
  
The last thing he remembered was dragging his twin away from the open street and into the shelter of that little cavity. Could this mean…  
  
He quickly turned around and felt relief so immense that it was almost painful when he spotted his beloved brother on another berth merely a couple of metres away. He wasn’t faded or grey and no grisly piece of metal was marring his chest. He seemed to be in peaceful recharge, which the bond confirmed once the yellow twin had calmed down enough to access it.  
  
Someone had come for them. Someone had brought them here and repaired their injuries. Someone had fed them and made sure they were still kept close to one another.  
  
Someone had cared.  
  
The sound of a door hissing open made Sunstreaker turn his head again, gazing in wonderment at the mostly white mech that hurried  towards him.  
  
“I heard you cry,” the newcomer said, concern shining in his deep blue optics. “Is everything all right?”  
  
All the sharp twists of confusing emotions suddenly became too much for the little mechling and he burst into tears. Half a moment later he found himself embraced by a pair of strong but gentle arms.  
  
“There, there, young one,” the white medic said, hugging the weeping sparkling and stroking his tiny yellow headfins in a soothing manner. “You are both safe now, we’ll take care of you.”  
  
There was that word again. Care. And it felt so nice to be held like that, so warm and safe.  
  
“Promise?” Sunstreaker managed to get out between the sobs.  
  
“Promise,” the medic said, smiling at the sparkling in his arms. “So tell me, little one, do you have a name?”  
  
“Sun… Sunstreaker,” the yellow twin said, still crying but beginning to calm. “And my brother’s name… is Sideswipe.”  
  
“Nice to meet you, Sunstreaker,” the medic said with another smile that warmed the mechling’s spark. “My name is Ratchet.” __  
  
The End


End file.
